The Suspicion of Sir Smile
by LadyAJ
Summary: Severus and Hermione don't have the most plain-sailing of relationships... Written pre-DH, T rating for language.


Severus Snape looked murderous

A/N: Many thanks to my beta, Miss Pinxter, who made this readable!

The Suspicion of Sir Smile

It was a dark winter night at 12 Grimmauld Place. A few Order members were dotted about in the echoing house, but mainly people had better places to be. The war had been raging for nearly five years now, with neither side gaining an upper hand for more than a few weeks before a well-planned counter-attack would swing the balance back. All was not completely quiet in Headquarters, however.

Hermione stood from the chair she had been curled up in, a hefty Arithmancy tome balanced on her lap. She carefully closed the book and placed it on the oak table before turning to her lover. "Severus," she began, "think very carefully about what you are saying to me."

"Are you going to hex me? It would do more damage if you threw that book," Severus replied. "Sleeping with me to get information! Why the fuck didn't you just ask Bill Weasley?!"

"I am not sleeping with you to get you to tell me what you're up to! You don't anyway, so how can you think that?" Hermione's eyes began to look watery, but she blinked away the unshed tears, squaring up to her ex-teacher.

"You are nothing more than a cheap prostitute!" Severus spun on his heel and resumed pacing in front of his girlfriend of six months, Hermione Granger. "I always knew you were a knowledge-whore, but even I never thought you would sink this low…" His voice had been low and controlled, but it rose with the next question to a sneering, classroom-tone. "How much were your cohorts paying you to spy on the spy?"

"_Severus!_ You are one step away from calling Miss Granger a hobby-horse!" Minerva McGonagall had just entered the kitchen, presumably in search of other Order members. Despite her short stature, she looked formidable. Severus Snape just sneered at the older woman.

"Fuck off, you old hag."

"Language, Severus," countered McGonagall primly. "And I believe the quote is 'gross hag'."

"I am not in the mood for a literature discussion, Minerva. Kindly disappear, as we are in the middle of a very important discussion."

"Oh, really? Seems to me you are more 'in the middle' of a tirade, _tyrant_. Apparently, a personal relationship with a person allows your language to become more vulgar." Her gaze hardened, reminiscent of an old man, long dead. Even Severus Snape took notice. "I protect my Gryffindors, Severus," she continued, her voice carefully level and obviously strained, "so you will leave this kitchen right now. I will expect to see you in the library in five minutes. You will have calmed down."

After McGonagall's speech, Severus swept from the room. The effect was only slightly lessened by the absence of dark robes. When it came to Severus Snape, the imagination tended to fill in the necessary swathes of dark fabric. With Severus's departure, the doorway darkened once again as Remus Lupin entered the kitchen. He exchanged a glance with McGonagall, then sat at the table, conjuring with a wave of his wand two elaborate mugs of hot chocolate, complete with cream. The elderly headmistress left the room, but her exit was not noticed by either party.

"He's difficult, Hermione," Remus uttered by way of starting conversation.

"I know that, Remus," she sighed. "That's partly what I like about him. He's different, and I know when he says something nice he really means it." Remus remained silent. "He's not Ron. I don't want showering in compliments, or being treated like I'll break. I like that he sees me as strong, knows that I can stand up to him. But then he goes and does something like this, and I realise he can't get past the student thing." Hermione dragged a finger through some cream and licked it sadly. "Oh, I'm sorry Remus. I'm babbling. How's Tonks?"

Remus gave her a look. "She's fine. But that's not why I'm here. We're meant to be talking about you."

Hermione grinned slightly. "I've had my rant, thanks. I know what he's like, Remus. He'll get over it and then everything will be back to normal."

"You shouldn't have to put up with it."

Hermione took a long draught of the sweet liquid from her mug and smiled again. Remus recognised the steely glint in her eye that said she wouldn't be budged. "But I love him, so I do. End of discussion."

While Hermione declared her love to a sceptical Remus, Severus was being bawled out by an irate Professor McGonagall.

"I literally cannot believe how you treat that poor girl!" The older woman paused for breath, her hair escaping from the tight bun in her anger. "You are not only rude, Severus…" Here a chuckle escaped the tall man. 'Rude' would be one of his own three words he would use to describe himself. It was a key element to his personality. "…But

you don't realise how lucky you are. Any number of men would fight to date Hermione -"

"- If it wasn't for the greasy bat of the dungeons that scares them all witless."

"Precisely! She chose _you,_ Severus. Merlin knows why, but she did. And if you ever truly cross her, you might want to remember who she is. Who she is friends with. Half the Order would fight to protect her. Very few would stand by your side, Severus." During the speech, the headmistress's voice had lowered until defeat and exhaustion showed through.

"She's not a girl, Minerva! She doesn't need you, or anyone else, to fight her battles for her," Severus retorted. There was a brief episode of silence. Then Severus Snape realised that he had been had.

"Exactly, Severus. She's an adult, and more mature than you are. You're in danger of losing her. Go." Her voice soft, Minerva McGonagall pointed towards the door. With a last look, Severus swept through it.

The doorway of the kitchen once more darkened. Remus had long since left for his own home to meet his wife for dinner. Hermione had cracked open the enormous book once more, a refilling charm supplying her with constant hot chocolate access. Perfect studying conditions.

The chair opposite Hermione scraped as it was pulled from under the table. A tall figure folded himself into it in silence. Hermione stared resolutely at her book, studying an interesting Arithmancy equation.

"Ignoring me? Very mature, Hermione," remarked Severus, before realising that perhaps

this was not the best opening statement. It was met with continuing silence. "You're right, that didn't deserve an answer." Still nothing. "I know my conversational skills are legendary, but they are usually enhanced by the contribution of another person." At this, Hermione quickly stifled a small smile. Still no reply was uttered, however.

"Hermione Granger, I apologise." At this, there was a thump as a heavy book was closed, and Hermione looked up. "I treat you badly because this is new to me, but that is no excuse."

"No, it isn't." Severus waited for an extension to this, but none was forthcoming.

"I am truly sorry, Hermione," he replied, rubbing his eyes with one hand. It was his vulnerable side…as vulnerable as an ex-Death Eater spy slash teacher ever got, anyway. It was also a side he allowed very few to see; Dumbledore was one, Poppy another, but only out of necessity, as she had seen him at his weakest, and then Hermione. "I don't deserve you."

It was this self-pity that seemed to finally galvanise Hermione into action. "No, Severus, don't you even dare to start on that. You do deserve me. You have done so much for everyone, and for me. And I love you. That should be enough, surely." Her voice had been carefully measured and calm throughout the dialogue, but during the last sentence her tone had become slightly desperate.

"It is." Severus stood, crossed round the table and crouched at Hermione's feet. She turned a startled gaze on him, and he smiled, hesitantly. She grinned back, and stood up, leading him out the room and through the house until they reached the library. Severus sank into one of the worn leather armchairs, smirking contentedly as Hermione curled up on his lap like a cat.

She burrowed her face deep into the fabric of his shirt, deeply inhaling his scent. "I forgive you," she mumbled, closing her eyes and shifting to get more comfortable.

Severus smiled again. This was getting to be a habit. "I'd guessed that," he replied. Hermione punched a fist against his arm without lifting her head.

"Cheeky," she admonished. "Maybe I should change my mind?" Severus lifted her chin so as to meet her eyes.

"Darling Hermione, light of my life, how could I persuade you otherwise?" he drawled, suggestively. Hermione grinned again, and leaned a little closer. Their lips met softly at first, then more passionately. At the doorway, there was a small chuckle as Remus pulled the library door firmly shut. He turned to his fellow conspirator.

"I think maybe we should leave it at that," he said with a smile. McGonagall nodded with a smile of her own.

"Those two are worse than most teenagers. More bust-ups, and then more public snogging." Remus started, then blinked slightly at his former professor's casual use of a word like 'snogging'. No matter how long it was since you had been a student, you never quite got used to these things. "Still, they should be happy, eventually. They are admittedly a good match." McGonagall was more business-like now, relaxing Remus. "Although I like to blame Severus, as he usually deserves it, Hermione isn't completely guilt-free."

"She isn't?" Remus looked surprised.

"She provokes him, Remus. Only occasionally, but she does have a hand in it." Remus had stopped walking. "Oh, grow up, Lupin," she snapped, though with a certain amount of affection. "Nobody's perfect." With that, she turned into the parlour, Remus following behind.

THE END

A/N: Brownie points to anyone who can guess which Shakespeare play this is referring to! The title is a clue, as is the altercation between Snape and McGonagall. By the way, my beta was confused about the term hobby-horse, and I realise it's current meaning is not the same as the Shakespearean one, which is 'prostitute'. Anyway, thanks for reading and please review!


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